Dragon Wings

by Konstanz Silverbow

  “Sorry. Yep, coming.” I get up quickly, too fast, and my head spins. I take a moment to orient myself, checking the seat to make sure I have everything before following Max off the bus.

  I tug at the end of my hair, looping it around my fingers. I didn’t manage to come up with a legitimate excuse to bail on Max, and I can’t bring myself to lie to him—especially because I do want to spend time with him—which leaves me wondering what to do about Yackros.

  After last night, I can’t just not show up. He’ll think I care more about the danger than about seeing him.

  If Max doesn’t leave after a couple of hours, I’ll figure something out.

  “Want to watch TV?” I ask, unlocking the front door and going inside, letting Max follow.

  “Sure. Do you have any string cheese? I’m starving.” He closes the door and dumps his backpack on the entryway bench before kicking his shoes off.

  “Don’t think so. Best snacks are in the pantry if you want to find something else. I’m gonna just throw my stuff in my room.” I take the stairs two at a time, not bothering to get a response from him.

  I toss my backpack into the closet and shut the doors. Both my desk and bed are littered with articles, diagrams, and images I printed from the internet. There’s also a scattering of my own pitiful art attempts and messy notes. I scoop up as many papers as I can and shove them in the bottom drawer of my desk. Another big stack gets thrown in the closet with my backpack.

  Once satisfied there’s nothing even semi-dragon-related remaining, I take a calming breath, compose myself, and step toward the hall.

  “What’s this?” Max stands in the doorway holding up a rough sketch of Yackros. Not that it does the dragon justice.

  Betrayed by one flighty paper.

  “I was just doodling.” I shrug, trying to act like it’s no big deal.

  “And this?” Max flips the paper over, revealing a blue sticky note on the back.

  Fire-breather? Ask. Scribbled in pen.

  I swallow. “Just some research.”

  “On dragons?” He looks down at me, his brows raised, a disbelieving smirk on his lips.

  “Yeah.”

  “Who do you need to ask about fire breathing?” He glances back at the note.

  “Just a . . . friend. Online.”

  “Oh.” He shakes his head.

  “What?” I ask, clenching my jaw.

  “Why?” he asks back. “It’s not homework.”

  “No, I, uh, I just find it interesting.” I shrug again.

  Too slowly, he crosses the room to sit on my bed. He looks me in the eye. “This doesn’t have anything to do with when you were three, right?”

  I don’t know what answer he’s expecting, but now I’m in an even more awkward situation. It doesn’t matter what I say now—I’m stuck. I’m not a good liar, but I can’t tell him the truth. So I’ll answer a question with a question. “Why would you ask that?”

  He waits in silence. Then finally, “Just curious.”

  That silence again.

  “Oh. Well, no. I was just creating a character. For my online friend.” Bold. Faced. Lie.

  “Cool.” He drops it on my blanket and claps his hands, bouncing back to his feet. “I got out some chips and salsa.”

  “Great!” Deep breath. “What should we watch?”

  This changes nothing. I lied for a greater good. Someday Max will know the truth, just like the rest of society. Until then, I’ll keep my promise to Yackros.

  Even if it takes a lie.

  The circle of trees around us is as familiar to me as home. My back is against Yackros, who lies in the tall grass, an occasional snore escaping his snout and causing a tickle throughout my whole body.

  I pick a white flower from the ground, twirling its stem between my fingers. “Yackros?” I ask, not really wanting to disturb him. I’m perfectly happy and content in our meadow. I could stay here forever if it meant never losing him.

  “Hmm?” the dragon grunts.

  “Will you tell me about the bond?” I sit up and look at him. “What does it mean? How does it work?”

  He opens his eyes, grinning. “It is very much what it sounds like. A connection between two beings. One human. One dragon.”

  “But what does that mean? Like, how are they bound?”

  “It is something akin to soul mates, but not in a romantic sense. Dragons have magic, and humans have magic. Separate, they’re both powerful. But together, their magics combine, giving both creatures not only each other’s abilities, but new ones as well.”

  I refrain from asking about magic. If I immediately followed every new question that popped up, I’d never get answers to any of them. “So, you find a human you want to be connected with for life and share magic with them?”

  “It is not something to be chosen. It’s a kind of magic no one controls and no one can predict. Being bound means that you feel each other’s emotions. Suffering, joy, and everything in between. It means humans fly and dragons walk. It means everything. It changes both lives in every way, and yet they remain the same.”

  I nod, stripping tiny bits of green from the flower stem in my hand.

  “Can they still find romantic love with one of their kind?” I ask, my fingers hesitating over one of the petals.

  “Yes. What’s between a dragon and human is not romantic, though it is love.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “It is a friendship,” he continues, “an unbreakable connection. What’s more, it’s the joining of two life forces.”

  “Does that mean—?” I pause. “What do you mean?”

  “If the dragon dies, the human dies. And the other way around.”

  My breath hitches. “What does that mean for the humans cut off from their dragons?”

  “I have wondered the same thing for more than two hundred years.” He shakes his head. “And I simply do not know.”

  “I could find them,” I whisper. “Or at least try.”

  “Please, Alita,” he begs, shaking his head. “Let us think of happier things.”

  I spin the flower between two fingers.

  “Okay,” I concede. “Then tell me about your family. Life before going into hiding. I want to know everything. Tell me how magic works, how bonds between our kinds started.”

  He chuckles. “I don’t know how you can wish for so many stories, and yet not even give me time to tell one before asking for more.”

  “To be honest, Yackros, I’m surprised you’re answering any,” another deep voice says.

  I jump up, turning to face a dragon larger than Yackros, with scales as blue as the sky on a sunny day. My heart hammers against my ribcage.

  I’ve seen him before.

  “Guthrie.” His name slips out, though I had every intention of remaining silent and waiting for Yackros to handle the situation.

  The large dragon looks at me, his head slightly tilted. “And she knows my name,” he states plainly.

  Yackros stands and faces the larger dragon. “Listen to me carefully, old friend, before you react.”

  “If I did not intend on hearing you out, old friend, I would not have come alone. But I would like to know what you’re thinking, allowing this girl to visit continually. Once was an accident. Twice was an error in judgment. Now what am I to think?” The elder dragon speaks not with anger or malice, but from experience, understanding, and with warning.

  “Alita,” Yackros says to me without moving, “return home.”

  “She will do no such thing, Yackros. Come, child.” Guthrie beckons with his talon.

  I hesitate, unsure who to listen to. I want to stay, but I trust Yackros. I know him. Guthrie, not so much.

  After a tense moment, Yackros nods to me. “Do as he says.”

  I move toward the older dragon. Either I’m going to make a second friend, or die. I go forward until I’m standing before him and feeling tinier than ever.

  Guthrie looks me in the eye. “I imagine he has expla
ined our situation?”

  “I know of the war between our kinds, and that dragons went into hiding to protect us.”

  “Have you told anyone about Yackros or the existence of dragons?” Guthrie leans down so we’re closer to eye level.

  “No. I promised Yackros I would protect him. I won’t break that promise.”

  “You are wise—I imagine beyond your years. Loyalty—that is an important quality.” He falls silent.

  I don’t know whether he’s expecting a response from me or deciding my fate. I stay silent too.

  “Alita. Hmmm. Your name suits you, human. Though you are without wings, you’re loyal. I do not know how you are within our borders, but the fact that you are here speaks volumes to me.” He glances at Yackros for barely a moment.

  Gulping, I look between them and meet Guthrie’s gaze as it returns to me.

  “The magic protecting our border is strong. I know because I am one of two that created it. Only someone meant to be here could get past it. It gives me great hope.”

  A smile starts on my face. Although he doesn’t return it, there seems to be a softness in his eyes.

  “Perhaps you will be the first step toward our return to the world we had before the war,” he says. “But I caution you, as I am sure Yackros already has. You being here is a risk to many. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “You may visit Yackros, but you will not meet another dragon here who would not go straight to Ruxsiu. As you travel between our borders, do so carefully. It would be a deadly mistake to enter without knowing Yackros is the dragon awaiting your entrance.”

  I nod, confused at his warning versus his actions. Does he intend to tell Ruxsiu?

  “And Alita?” Guthrie says.

  “Yes?”

  “Do not hurt Yackros. I feel a sense of mutual trust, and I will respect that. But if you hurt him, betray him, or desert him without cause, I will eat you for supper.”

  I gulp and take a step back. I have to clear my throat twice before I manage sound. “Understood.”

  He laughs, a short-lived but genuine chuckle. “Very well. One last thing, then.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You must understand that you are in danger every moment you’re here. I will leave you to make a plan with Yackros to help lessen that risk.”

  “Thank you, Guthrie.” I bow my head as I’ve seen them bow, assuming it’s the way they show respect.

  “You are welcome, my princess.” He returns the gesture.

  I don’t understand why he calls me princess, but I certainly don’t mind it, so I don’t point it out. And it doesn’t matter because he’s already leaving our little meadow.

  It’s just me and Yackros again.

  Visiting Yackros in the forest went from something I planned around to something I planned on. It became routine. I hated leaving Max after school on a daily basis, but with a great stroke of luck, he joined the wrestling team. Probably to avoid his foster family more than anything. But it worked well for me because it meant two hours after school where I didn’t have to worry about him wondering what I was doing, or why I wasn’t spending all my time with him.

  Dad was never home before six in the evening—if not later—and Mom practically lived in Tucson working a big case, leaving me plenty of time to get up the mountain—on my bike until I turned sixteen, and then with the car—and escape into a world that shouldn’t exist.

  Yackros made it clear that I was not to slip on my education because of him, which meant I did my homework sitting beside a dragon, and when the need arose, he tutored me on anything I struggled with. It certainly surprised teachers when I knew more than they did about a subject. Especially history. I could listen to Yackros tell me stories all day long, and that’s often what happened the moment I’d finished all my homework.

  I traveled in time through the eyes of a dragon living in a world humans couldn’t fathom because they didn’t even remember that life anymore. That history was erased, altered, made boring. Where magic once thrived in our world, it was simply gone.

  Or more so, hiding, just as the dragons are. Along with all other creatures this world deemed mythical. All the stories we called fairy tales were real, in some form or other. And where it was once impossible to believe, spending my days in Runavelius, witnessing the magic all around me, I couldn’t wait for the world to know about them again.

  When monsoon season struck and the roads all flooded, all I had to do was enter Runavelius to be free from the treacherous weather because it didn’t touch the dragons’ land. They had completely cut themselves off from our world.

  I never wanted to leave, but Yackros made me promise I wouldn’t stay more than a few hours at a time because it wasn’t safe for me there. And the longer I stayed, the better chances were I’d be caught.

  There were a few close calls. Dragons approaching undetected until they were too close for me to leave. Sometimes we could hear them wandering the woods. In those moments, I didn’t dare breathe.

  But so far, we’d been luckier than I could ever imagine. And Guthrie kept our secret. Sometimes he came into our grove and listened or asked me questions about the human world. Mostly wanting to know about our customs, how much had changed since the war. Things like that. I’d tell him about my side of history, and he told me his.

  Today was not one of those days. It was quiet. Calm. Neither Yackros nor I spoke for quite some time. We didn’t need to.

  “Yackros,” I say, hesitant to disturb the peacefulness.

  “Hmm?” he grunts. The sound rumbles against my spine.

  I pull my feet closer in the grass, my eyes on the cloudless sky.

  “What was it like? You know, before? I mean, what was your day-to-day life like?”

  “That greatly depended upon a dragon’s position within the den.”

  “Were humans considered part of the den? The ones bound to a dragon?” It seems like such a silly dream, wanting to be part of Yackros’ den.

  “Most definitely. In fact, most humans worked right alongside their dragons. There were dragons and riders who could trust each other wholly. The bond is so strong, not even death could part them.”

  For a moment, it’s like I can see them—dragons and riders together against a backdrop of sunny blue.

  I can see myself, hair tied tightly against the wind, hunched forward over shining copper scales. Yackros would be smiling. I love it when he smiles.

  I reach up, but there’s just open air and empty sky.

  “That all changed,” he continues, “when humans got greedy, demanding more than what they deserved.”

  “Which was nothing, Yackros. And they still don’t.” The deep, unknown voice makes the contents of my stomach curdle.

  I don’t have to know who’s speaking to know we’re in trouble.

  I scramble to my feet and turn to face the new dragon, knowing it’s pointless trying to escape now. The moment I’ve feared for a year has finally come.

  This dragon has bright yellow scales fading to lime green, so vivid they look diseased. His dark yellow eyes bore into me. “Which begs the question, why is there a human within our borders? And how is it that our guardian has seen her and not disposed of her?”

  Yackros gets up on all fours, his hind legs stepping over me so he’s positioned between the other dragon and myself.

  “What are you doing here, Breighad?” he growls.

  The other dragon smirks. “I came to find you, Yackros,” he says in a mocking tone. “King Ruxsiu suspected the magical barrier had weakened somehow, though no one else could sense it. As you are the protector of our walls, he was sure you would know. Now I see that you, in fact, do.”

  Five more dragons, all wearing armor over their scales, enter the grove, not bothering to care for the trees as they brush past them.

  “I suggest you go easily,” Breighad sneers. “I’d hate for the human to die without a proper trial.”

  Yackros surrenders before a
battle can ensue. The five guards drag Yackros away, who watches me with an air of defeat, an apology on his lips. I don’t hear it, but I can feel it in my heart. Which is hammering. Bile rises in my throat.

  Breighad approaches, looking all too pleased with himself.

  The sound of breaking branches startles me from behind. I turn to find Guthrie bursting into the meadow.

  “I’ll take her, Breighad. You can return with the others,” he says, wrapping his talons around my body and picking me up. My stomach drops along with the ground, and I hold tight to his talons.

  Breighad steps closer, chest out and teeth bared. “I don’t think so, Guthrie. I found this—I’ll be the one to take it to the king. Besides, considering that you don’t look too surprised to see the human girl here, I imagine you’ll sit this one out.”

  Guthrie looks at me, hesitating. Then he sets me down.

  Before I can catch my breath, Breighad snatches me, holding me so tightly, it feels like my body is being crushed. A scream rips through my throat. The agonizing pressure makes it feel like I’m being molded like clay. I can only imagine the bruises I’ll have later, assuming I live long enough for them to appear.

  He storms through the woods, taking down anything in his way—trees, bushes, all of it. I close my eyes, trying not to empty the contents of my stomach from being squeezed so tight that it feels like my eyes might just pop out entirely.

  I’m shaking from the pain, the harsh movement, things hitting my arms and face. And suddenly I can feel the sun. I peek out from under my eyelids and see that we’re now on rocks. There’s a small wall of stone, and on either side is the cliff’s edge.

  Yackros is being held by the guards who dragged him here, now with a clamp over his muzzle, keeping him from speaking.

  Breighad drops me before a large—bigger than Guthrie—dragon who looks like what nightmares and death are made of.

  “The imposter,” he sneers.

  The ground beneath my feet shakes as Ruxsiu steps forward.

  I hardly notice, I’m trembling so hard.

  “Are you going to beg for your life?” His face is unreadable, but his eyes burn fire bright. “Or perhaps for the traitor’s?”